


Cooking with Heat

by amandateaches



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chef!Sam x Restaurant Owner!Reader, F/M, Reader-Insert, Some seriously sexy Sam, Workplace Romance, plus a hot make-out session
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 06:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16927950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amandateaches/pseuds/amandateaches
Summary: You hire Sam to work at your restaurant, but will your growing feelings for him destroy everything you’ve built?





	Cooking with Heat

You were spending your night doing what you did just about every other night- pouring over the bills for your very, very broke restaurant.

When your chef had up and quit two months ago, most of your customers had gone with him. Now, the bills were coming in faster than the customers, and, unfortunately, you hadn’t yet found a way to stop it.

In the beginning, you’d been optimistic about finding a replacement chef quickly, you really had, but, it had turned out to be way harder than you’d have ever thought.

First, there had been the nervous breakdown chef that had basically trashed your kitchen. That was followed by the chef that turned out to be a secret stoner, which, in turn, was followed by the chef who’d kind of turned into a low-key stalker. That one was extra fun, you thought with a sigh, as you let your head fall down on the table in defeat. I swear, if bad luck is a disease, I’m pretty sure I have it.

At this point, you were the restaurant’s owner and chef, which wasn’t ideal for pretty much anyone involved. You were overworked, the front of the house was suffering with you in the kitchen all the time, and, to top it all off, your food wasn’t even that good.

Something needed to change, and quickly, or you were going to lose the restaurant that had been your dream since you were a little girl.

You sluggishly lifted your head again and grabbed at the stack of applications in front of you, rereading over the familiar words on each paper. There were a lot of qualified chefs applying for the job, but you were a little hesitant to pick one after how you had gotten burned with the last three hires, not to mention your former head chef.

You kept indecisively reviewing the applications, finding faults with every chef there, but there was one application that you liked, one that stood out, that was different from the others.

The chef, Sam Winchester, was just out of culinary school with no formal restaurant experience, so, at first, you had just disregarded the resume as under qualified. But, then, you’d read the cover letter. That was what had hooked you.

Sam Winchester was a damn fine writer. You could tell by the way he wrote that he was smart, but it was more than that. He was eloquent. He was persuasive. He was desperate.

He needed this job, that fact was clear. It shone through in his cover letter in a way that no one else’s had. His words told a story of how no one would give him a chance. Even though he was well-trained and passionate, they all said he didn’t have enough experience to be hired as a head chef, which you had to agree with. But, he was determined. He professed his dedication and he swore that, if you hired him, he wouldn’t let you down.

Somehow, you believed him.

Luckily for Sam Winchester, you were desperate too, and, at this point, you were willing to give just about any decent man a chance at that job, experience or not. You just hoped that Sam was the right man.

The first time you actually met Sam ended up being his first day of work.

Of course, you hadn’t planned it that way. You’d originally scheduled an in-person interview with him, but it had fallen through when you’d gotten stuck in the kitchen, a pitfall of having no head chef. So, after a quick phone interview, you’d decided he was good enough and hired him. After delivering the good news, you’d told him to be at the restaurant by 2 pm so he had enough prep time before you opened for dinner at 4.

You had planned to get there a little early and meet him out front to show him around, but, once again, you were waylaid in the kitchen.

“What do you mean we’re out of salmon?” you cried. “That’s tonight’s special!”

Your sous chef, Clarice, grimaced a little before answering. “Donny thought I put it away, but I thought he did, so, uh, it, uh, it got left out…”

You closed your eyes and counted to ten. “All night?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You let out a deep, controlled breath then. You knew yelling at Clarice and Donny would accomplish nothing. They were both too young and inexperienced to know better, and, honestly, they were easily upsetable. Yelling at them would just make everything worse.

“Okay…” you breathed out. “Um, throw away all the rotten salmon, switch the special to chicken, and…Clarice?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t do this again, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she whispered remorsefully, before retreating away to the walk-in freezer.

You sighed and turned around to make your way back out front to meet Sam, but, instead, you ran smack dab into a very solid, very warm, body, which knocked you right off your feet. “Oof!”

“Oh, damn! I’m so sorry,” a deep, smooth voice said quickly from above you. “Here let me help you.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” you muttered, brushing him off. “It was just…”

You trailed off as you looked up and got lost in the man’s dazzling hazel eyes. Whoever he was, he was drop-dead gorgeous. “….just an accident,” you finished softly.

“Are you sure?” he asked with a gentle smile that filled you with warmth. “You’re not hurt?”

“No,” you stuttered, reaching up to take his strong hand. “I’m okay.”

He pulled you up easily, getting you back on your feet so your eyes were level with his broad chest. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“It was the least I could do, since I’m the one who knocked you over in the first place,” he said with a laugh. “Actually, maybe you could help me? I’m looking for Ms. Y/L/N.”

Today’s my lucky day, you thought. “I’m Ms. Y/L/N.”

His face paled. “You are?” He looked up at the ceiling and ran his head through his hair in frustration. “Well, that’s just great. Leave it to me to knock my boss over on my first day.”

“Boss?” you asked, the smile now on your face. “Then that must mean that you’re my new chef, Sam Winchester.”

“Guilty,” he said, still frowning. “I am so sorry I knocked you over, Ms. Y/L/N.”

You laughed. “It’s fine, really. I’m good. And, please, call me Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he repeated smoothly, and, all of a sudden, you weren’t in control anymore, his smile was. “That’s a beautiful name.”

You sputtered and coughed, suddenly flustered, as his grin widened. “You know what, Sam, why don’t I just show you where you’re going to be working?”

“I would love that,” he replied with a deep laugh, following so closely behind you, you could feel the heat pouring off his body.

Great, you thought to yourself, of course I hired the sexiest chef to ever exist. Of freaking course. You sighed. What the hell am I going to do?

It turns out, you couldn’t really do anything, because, no matter how much you tried to stay professional, working with Sam was torture.

The man was driving you crazy. He was just too damn sexy and you literally couldn’t focus.

Everytime you walked into the restaurant kitchen, there he’d be, in his well-fitted chef’s coat with the sleeves rolled up to showcase his muscled, hairy arms. And, then, he’d turn and smile his sunshine-filled smile at you, and you were lost.

There were so many times that you wanted to run right into his arms and rip that chef’s coat off of him, but you couldn’t. You were his boss, and, because you were his boss, you couldn’t act on your emotions. You just had to just bottle them up.

So, that meant, as the months went on, you ended up finding more and more excuses to spend time away from the kitchen, away from Sam. Now, you hardly even went in there, unless there was some emergency. Instead, you hid in your office or in the front of the restaurant where your feelings about Sam could stay where they belonged: hidden.

That’s where you were now. It was long past closing time, but you were still at your desk, buried under a mound of paperwork. When you’d opened the restaurant, you’d never dreamed that a place that serves food would have so much damn paperwork, but it did and it was never-ending. But, it did have one positive: it kept your mind of Sam, and his sexy stubble, and his kissable lips, and his…

Focus, Y/N, you whispered as you concentrated back on the paragraph you were reading. You read over a few lines before you heard a faint knock at the door. “Come in,” you yelled out, not even bothering to look up from your paper.

The door opened and, in walked Sam, in all his chef’s coat glory, as if you’d summoned him with your not-so-innocent thoughts. “Sam?!” you cried, jumping up. “What are you still doing here?”

He looked at you questioningly. “I stayed late because I needed to talk to you. Are you busy?”

You thought about making some excuse and bolting as you walked over to the front of your desk, but you quickly decided against it. As tempting as that was, it would be cowardly and unprofessional. So, instead, you shook your head and leaned against it. “Um, no, I guess not. What’s, uh, what’s up?”

Sam quietly closed the door behind him and walked towards you, each step sending a jolt of warmth through your body. You tried to back away from him to block your physical response, but you were trapped by the desk.

“Y/N, have I done something to upset you?”

“What?” you asked, shocked by his question. “Why would you say that?”

“Well, I don’t know,” he said, still advancing towards you. “It just seems like you’ve been avoiding me the past couple of weeks.” He stopped, inches in front of you. “Did I do something wrong?”

You sighed heavily, suddenly feeling like the biggest jerk on the planet. “No, Sam, of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

He groaned and ran his hand through his hair- his long, incredibly sexy hair. “Then, what’s going on, Y/N? Why do you run out of the kitchen everytime I walk in? Do you not like me, because, if I’m causing you a problem, I’ll leave…”

“No, Sam, no,” you said, standing up straight to face him. You couldn’t bear to let him think he had done anything wrong. “It’s not like that at all.” You looked down, already regretting your next words. “It’s the opposite, actually. I…. like you a little too much.”

Sam furrowed his eyebrows together in confusion for a second before your meaning clicked and his eyes widened. “Oh, ohhh…..”

“Yeah,” you whispered, now feeling entirely awkward. “And, these feelings, obviously, are completely inappropriate, because I’m your boss. So, if this makes you uncomfortable and you want to quit, I completely understand, it’s just…umph.”

All of a sudden, your rambling was cut off by the hard press of his lips to yours. It was uncertain at first, but, when you began to respond, Sam took control, moving in close so your bodies came together as one, the space between them gone. He slid his tongue in between your teeth at the exact moment his hands roughly grabbed your thighs, lifting you up with ease onto the desk behind you.

You couldn’t get enough.

His touch ignited a fire in you that you’d never felt before, and you never wanted it to end. You gave as good as you got, running your hands everywhere they could reach, tugging and pulling as he pressed deeper and deeper into you, melting you from the inside out.

You were so captivated, that, when you pulled back, you were pretty sure you would have fallen backwards if it hadn’t been for the desk and Sam’s strong arms holding you up. “Wow…” you whispered.

He laughed, a smile materializing on his face. “Does that answer your question?”

“What question?” you muttered dreamily, earning a deeper laugh from him. “Oh, the ‘are you uncomfortable’ question? Um, yeah, I think it answers that one.”

“Good,” he whispered gruffly, a hint of possessiveness in his voice that made you shiver. He leaned in to kiss you again, but you held him back.

“Wait a second. As amazing as that kiss was, I’m still your boss, and I know how messy workplace romances can get. How exactly is this going to work?”

His smile widened. “I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out,” he stated confidently. “Y/N, you’re incredible, and I think we could be even more incredible together. Any challenges that come with that are worth it. Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out. Together.”

“Together,” you echoed before leaning in to kiss him again.

You were pretty sure “together” was going to be your new favorite word.


End file.
